Ba'el
by Ginomo
Summary: While aboard the Enterprise, Worf traveled to a Romulan prison camp and fell for Ba'el, the daughter of the Romulan commander and one of the Klingon prisoners. Years later, the Dominion War brings Ba'el to Deep Space Nine and back into Worf's life.
1. Chapter 1

**Ba'el**

By: Ginomo

Based on the TNG episode, "Birthright Part 2." Worf travels to a Romulan prison camp to rescue Khitomer survivors and while there he falls for Ba'el, the daughter of the Romulan commander and one of the Klingon prisoners. Years later, the Dominion War brings Ba'el back into his life.

* * *

 **Chapter 1**

 _Carraya IV, 2369_

The day ended in a way that Worf could never imagined. He woke up that morning prepared to face the Romulan firing squad, yet he was heading to bed a hero and exhausted from all the preparations that he was at the center of. The young people of the Carraya IV prison camp were leaving and he was to thank for that.

He was mentally and physically exhausted from it all, but Worf couldn't rest until he spoke to her. Ba'el had been notably absent from all the commotion that filled the second half of the day. Worf had tried to seek her out, but he was pulled in every direction but hers. As the day ended, the compound quieted down and Worf headed to his barrack. Before getting there, Worf turned down a different path.

Romulan Commander Tokath opened the door to his home and was instantly annoyed when he saw who it was, "What are you doing here? You've gotten your way, what more could you possibly want from us?"

"I need to speak with Ba'el."

Tokath positioned himself like a barricade between the Klingon and his daughter, "No. All the others flocking to you, you don't need her too."

 _She's the only one I wanted,_ Worf thought to himself.

Just then, Ba'el emerged, "Father, what's going on?"

"Nothing, my dear, go back to your room."

Her eyes met Worf's, "I'd like to speak to him."

"Ba'el…"

"Please father," Ba'el gently placed a hand on her father's arm. He'd never been good at saying no to his only daughter. Ba'el slipped by Tokath and led Worf into a quiet corner in the courtyard of the compound.

They stood there in silence for a moment. The night air was chilly that day and Ba'el tightly folded her arms across her chest. Worf spoke up first, "I have been trying to find you all day..."

"So much was going on, I didn't want to get in the way. I figured I'd give you your space to deal with all the others."

"Then you have been making preparations on your own?" he asked, hopefully.

Ba'el sighed, "Worf, I wish things were different but they're not. I can't go with you."

Worf was not surprised, he knew this morning when he saw her go to her parents' side that she'd made up her mind to stay. That didn't mean he wasn't going to confront her about it, though, "You must tell me why."

"You know why. I told you before; I have no place out there. And with all the other young people leaving, who will look after those that stay? The elders will be alone here without me."

"So instead of living your own life, you are resigned to spend it caring for them? What will become of you?"

"I'll be fine. This place is my home, it's all I have ever known. I will be happy here." Her eyes were cast downward, and her voice sounded like she was trying to convince herself as much as Worf.

"What about us?" Worf surprised even himself by being so direct.

"Us? What kind of future could we have, Worf? I'm a Romulan, remember?"

"I do not care. I do not want you wasting away here all alone."

She shook her head, "I can't go with you, Worf. I just can't.

Worf could feel himself getting frustrated with her, "I think you are afraid." He said, a hint of anger in his voice.

"I am!" she exclaimed honestly, "I'm terrified. And if that isn't Klingon enough for you, then you can blame it on my Romulan half."

Worf sighed, "I will be with you. I will keep you safe; no one would dare harm you."

"Worf," Bael touched his arm tenderly, "You're only going to be here a few more days. Let's not waste what little time we have together. I'd like to spend it with you."

Her gentle voice softened him, "As would I," Worf replied.

"Can I see you tomorrow morning, then?"

"Yes, of course," Bael was right. If this was it, he wanted to make the most of it. And who knows, he might even get her to change her mind before that supply ship came to pick them up.

* * *

Worf woke up early the next morning, sleep didn't come easily to him since he'd been on Carraya. Most of the prisoner-residents in the compound ate their meals together in the common dining hall. Worf tried to avoid that as much as possible, so he slipped in before the others to find something to have for breakfast.

"I need to speak to you."

Apparently Worf wasn't the only one up early that morning. He turned around to see Gi'ral standing in the doorway to the dining hall. He couldn't imagine what she could possibly want with him.

"What can I do for you?"

Gi'ral was not a physically imposing, but like most Klingon women she'd perfected the art of holding herself steady and proud. She could somehow manage to look down at Worf even though he towered over her. "I will be brief. When you and the others leave, I'd like you to take Ba'el with you."

That was probably the last thing Worf expected to hear from her, "Excuse me?"

"When you go, I need Ba'el to go with you," Gi'ral repeated.

"I heard you, I just do not understand why you are coming to me with this. Ba'el has made her choice."

"I know that," Gi'ral sighed, trying to compose herself. Right now she needed Worf and needed people was not something she was used to, "You must convince her otherwise."

"You _want_ her to go? This seems to go against everything you and Tokath have said so far."

"Do not forget, I am the one who lowered Tokath's weapon when he was poised to kill you and I am the one who said this prison was ours, not our children's. I meant that for my daughter as well, perhaps even more so, than the others."

Worf was still unsure of her intentions. Gi'ral had not exactly been welcoming to him, or his relationship with Ba'el, "Even if that means she would be with me?"

"I admit to disliking you when you first arrived. We'd spent years sheltering the young people from the outside world and you were a direct threat to that. You challenged the choices we'd made and that was unsettling to say the least." Gi'ral relaxed a bit, "But when I saw her go to you yesterday, when I saw her stand there with you and the way you looked at one another…I realized that she if she stays here she would never have that with anyone."

"Then why do you not go to her yourself?"

She shook her head, "Ba'el is loyal and selfless and she doesn't want to leave us here all alone. She is also afraid and I have myself to blame for that. While the others seem able to put aside all those things we taught them to keep them here, Ba'el is not. I suppose being half Romulan has something to do with that. She knows the world outside these walls will not accept her the way it will the others."

"If her own mother cannot convince her then what good can I do? She has made it clear that she wishes to stay."

Gi'ral was getting annoyed with him now, "You are a man and she is a woman. There are things you can convince her of that her father and I never could."

"I cannot imagine Tokath would approve of this."

"Which is why I need you to exercise discretion in this matter. I am not asking you to marry her, quite honestly once you leave this planet I have no control over what happens anyway. I just need her to get out of here so she can have some chance at a life. You came here to free the imprisoned Klingons from Khitomer and you have done that for all but one. That last one needs to be freed from herself."

Worf could see the pleading in Gi'ral's eyes. The truth was, he didn't know how to change Ba'el's mind, and if he did he would have already. But before him was a mother woman who needed some hope for her only child. Worf nooded, "I will try."

Gi'ral nodded, she seemed satisfied with that answer, "I suppose that is all I can ask."

* * *

Ba'el could hear rustling through the brush behind her. She turned, and a smile spread across her face when she saw who it was, "There you are!"

"My apologies," Worf said as he emerged, "I was detained by Toq."

"I figured as much. I can't say that I have ever seen him so excited. Here, come sit with me."

Ba'el walked him to the bank of the pond where she first saw him. It seemed like ages ago that Worf showed up there and turned their lives upside down.

"No one questioned you meeting me here?" she asked.

"Seeing that we are all leaving soon anyway no one much bothers with where I go anymore."

Ba'el lowered her eyes, "Not all of us," she quietly reminded him.

Worf opened his mouth to speak, but stopped himself. He'd been thinking about this morning's encounter with Gi'ral all day but had no idea how to approach it. He could hear her voice saying, "You are a man, and she is a woman…" over and over in his head but the reality was, Worf had never been very good at that type of thing. If she was counting on his romantic charm to change Ba'el's mind, Gi'ral was going to be disappointed.

"Will they be going with you to where you live?" Ba'el's voice snapped Worf out of his own thoughts.

"You mean Toq and the others?" Worf asked.

"Yes. Will you be taking them back to your home? How will you house so many of them?

"Oh no, they cannot stay with me. I work aboard a starship and everyone there is a trained officer that was selected to serve. I can arrange passage for them to begin new lives, but they won't be with me."

Ba'el's eyes widened, "Well then where will they go? Besides this place, you are all they know."

"I will have to make arrangements for them when I get back to my ship," Worf replied, "Most likely, I will have them resettle on an outlying Klingon colony . Going back to the Homeworld would probably be overwhelming for them right now. There are some small farming colonies in the Pheben System, the skills they have learned here will help them start lives there."

"Is this a place you go to often?"

"No. I myself have never been there and my duties take me all over the galaxy."

There was a sense of apprehension in her voice, "Do they know all this? You have been the one guiding them on this journey, do they know you won't be there with them?"

"Yes. I have explained it all at length over the last few days. They are ready."

Ba'el shook her head, "Then it is definitely best that I stay here. What would I do on a Klingon farming colony?"

"What are you doing here?" Worf countered, ""None of them have to stay there forever. It is just a place to start. I imagine many, including Toq, will venture to the Homeworld one day."

"Well, I cannot imagine that there are any Romulans living there, certainly no one like me."

Worf could sense that this upset her. Ba'el obviously had a different vision of how she thought this was going to go for her friends. Whereas they were all excited about what was ahead, Ba'el was apprehensive for them.

Worf reached out and stroked her hair, "If you were to leave this place, I would want you to stay with me."

Ba'el looked into his eyes, "Really?"

"I told you before, if I could I would take you with _me_."

"And just where is that? You know everything there is to know about where I live, which admittedly isn't much, but you have said very little about your life."

"As I said, I serve aboard a starship."

"Again, I can't imagine there would be much room for a half Romulan on a ship full of Klingons."

Worf tensed. He realized that she thought he lived amongst other Klingons, a reasonable assumption given everything that had gone on here. And all of a sudden he felt ashamed to admit to her that was not the case. Everything she knew about Klingon culture had come from a man who didn't even live with other Klingons.

"There are more than just Klingons and Romulans out there," he answered evasively, "There are countless other species each with their own homeworlds. Humans, Vulcans, Cardassians..."

Ba'el was embarrassed at just how little she knew about the world outside of this place, "I suppose the women where you're from wouldn't be asking such silly questions."

"It is not your fault, much has been hidden from you. You may not have the knowledge that others have, but that will come."

"Why you would want to have someone like me there with you when there are so many other women out there?"

Worf looked at her and answered as honestly as he could, "I would want no others," he whispered.

Ba'el could feel her heart begin to pound as she looked up at him. Worf's body loomed over hers, yet instead of fear, his imposing form made her feel safe secure. She gently touched his chest with her fingertips. Perhaps it could always be this way. If she went with him, he'd keep her safe wouldn't he?

The attraction between Worf and Ba'el was undeniable. Worf couldn't quite figure it out; her beauty was obvious, but Worf had been around beautiful women before. Beyond that it didn't make sense to him. Ba'el was young, naive, and not to mention half-Romulan. She was ignorant to all that Worf held most dear. Yet when he looked at her he knew he wanted her in a way that he hadn't wanted a woman for a long time.

 _You are a man, and she is a woman…_

Worf's strong hands once again cupped Ba'el's face, but this time when he glimpsed her ears Worf didn't hesitate. He brought his mouth down upon hers and kissed her deeply. Ba'el reached up and grasped his shoulders, pulling him down onto the grass with her. She could feel his weight upon her, it made her slightly breathless in a way that only served to heighten what she was feeling. Worf enveloped her in every way and she loved it. Was this what was meant to be? Could she really leave everyone and everything she'd ever known to be with him? In this moment, she felt like she could do anything to feel like this forever.

Ba'el could feel those same strong hands move down the side of her body and settle on her hips. She could feel his breath quicken, she didn't have to have a lot of experience with men to know where this was going. "Worf," Ba'el whispered, ending the embrace they shared, "The evening meal will be served soon, we should get back before the others wonder where we are."

Worf sat up and took a deep breath to compose himself, "Yes, you are right." He stood first, offering Ba'el his hand so she could stand as well. Their eyes met for a moment and they held one another's gaze, but it was Ba'el that looked away first. She turned and began walking back toward the compound, with Worf following closely behind.

* * *

The next day Ba'el took Worf deeper into the jungle to show him some of her favorite trails. He was impressed by how far she'd ventured off by herself and how well she knew the landscape around her. Spending the day out there with her was a welcomed change from being cooped up in the compound. And every so often they stopped to share an embrace like the one by the pond from the evening before.

Now Worf was in his quarters, lying in bed staring at the ceiling. The supply ship would be there first thing in the morning and it would be time to go. Though it had been on the tip of his tongue, Worf had not come out and asked Ba'el if she'd changed her mind about leaving Carraya. Why was that? The obvious answer was because she might say no. But Worf knew in his heart that wasn't all. He was just as worried that she might say yes.

And then what? Ba'el had been right about something earlier that week; it was always easy for Worf to speak of honor and death, but not of love. He couldn't even use his clichéd "Klingons do not…" line because the reality was that most Klingons put as much passion into loving as they did fighting. Worf had spent a lifetime mastering honor and discipline but he'd neglected that other part of being a Klingon. Letting that part of himself come to the surface made him vulnerable. He couldn't control it the way he did every other aspect of his life and that… well that scared him.

Worf was pondering all this when he heard a soft knock at his door. He wondered if it was Gi'ral coming to lecture him about not convincing her daughter to go with him.

It was not Gi'ral, "Ba'el? What are you doing here?"

She looked around nervously, "Can I come in?"

"Yes, yes of course." The door closed behind her. Worf noticed that she was wearing the same robe that she had with her when he first saw her bathing by pond. He could see that she looked anxious, almost upset, "Is something wrong?"

"No," Ba'el's voice was shaking. She let out a nervous breath and tried to settle herself, "I just had to see you..."

Ba'el walked to Worf's bed and slowly sat. As she did, her robe opened slightly and Worf could see that it was all she was wearing. Carefully, she removed it from her shoulders and let it fall to the bed. She looked at him with wide, almost pleading, eyes. No words were needed, Worf knew exactly why she'd come.

Worf sat next to her, willing himself to look into her eyes and not at the bare body she presenting to him, "Are you certain this is what you want?" he asked, his deep voice was gentle and soothing.

Her voice wavered, "I have never… but I want it to be you."

Once again, Ba'el felt the weight of Worf's body upon hers. This time, when his hands explored, she let it happen. Ba'el relished the feel of his skin against hers. She took him into her and let him love her in a way that she knew she'd never feel again. When it was over, Ba'el whispered, "I love you," to him and he returned the sentiment sincerely. When Worf saw the tears spill from her eyes, he knew that this was their way of saying goodbye.

Worf slept soundly for the first time since he'd come to this place. When he awoke the next morning, he found his bed was empty. A short time later he boarded the supply ship with every one of the Klingons born on Carraya IV, everyone except for Ba'el.


	2. Chapter 2

Ba'el

By: Ginomo

Based on the TNG episode, "Birthright Part II." While aboard the Enterprise, Worf traveled to a Romulan prison camp and fell for Ba'el, the daughter of the Romulan commander and one of the Klingon prisoners. Years later, the Dominion War brings Ba'el to Deep Space Nine and back into Worf's life.

* * *

 **Chapter 2**

Ba'el wiped sweat from her brow and stretched her back. She'd spent most of the morning foraging in the hills outside the compound. There were wild berries that grew there and she wanted to make something special for D'Laria's 70th birthday. Her baked goods were famous amongst their small group and this had become somewhat of a tradition. It was a good thing D'Laria didn't like the pie to be too sweet because Ba'el wasn't sure she'd have enough of the other ingredients that she'd need.

For as long as she could remember, a Romulan supply ship orbited their small planet once a month like clockwork to deliver whatever food and materials they needed. Then, about two years ago, the visits started becoming less frequent. Her father Tokath said there was a war going on in this part of the galaxy and that they'd have to conserve their resources. Ba'el wasn't sure if she should believe him or not; this wouldn't be the first time he'd made up a story about a war to pacify her. But as time went on, the supplies were running dangerously low and Ba'el noticed the elders speaking in secretive, hushed tones, she began to realize that something must really be wrong.

She brought her basket of berries into the dining hall and placed it on the table. Each one of the remaining residents of Carraya IV were gathered there, huddled around the table where Tokath and L'Kor sat.

"If what you have told us of these aliens is true then we cannot trust them."

"I know," Tokath said gravely.

"Can we get help from the Romulans?"

"No," Tokath shook his head, "They would never get here in time. And honestly, their forces are stretched thin as it is with fighting the Dominion."

"What is going on?" Ba'el asked.

They all looked at her, then back to Tokath. "Thank goodness you are back," he began, "There is an alien vessel in orbit, a Jem'Hadar vessel. They just contacted us; they want to take over the compound as a base of operations and have promised to spare us if we cooperate."

Ba'el's eyes were wide, "I do not understand…"

Gi'ral looked at her daughter and truly realized what a disservice they'd done to her by sheltering her from the world. She came to her side and gripped her hand, "These are the people we have been telling you about, the ones at war with both the Romulans and the Klingons. They have given us half an hour to prepare for their arrival," she paused, "But when they get here, they are going to kill us."

"What? But you just said-"

"It is a trap to lure us into a false sense of security so that we don't try to resist," Tokath said, his voice heavy with defeat. He couldn't even look at his daughter, "They will kill us. They have no doubt scanned us and realize we don't have the capacity to fight back."

L'Kor stood, "But we _will_ fight back. If they kill us, so be it," The other Klingons nodded in agreement.

"Perhaps you have forgotten that not everyone here shares your desire to die in battle," Tokath replied.

Gi'ral continued to hold her daughter's hand, which was trembling now, "You and Ba'el will go into the jungle. Take a comm unit and a couple days provisions. We will stay behind and hold them off. You will contact the Romulans and get our daughter off this planet one way or another. She has been here long enough."

Tokath stood. He had no idea if this was going to work but there really were no other options, "Yes," he said quietly.

"The rest of you, find whatever weapon you can," L'Kor's eyes lit up; he'd been waiting for something like this since they got there, "We will hold them off as long as we can to give Ba'el a chance to escape. She has sacrificed herself for us, and now it is time to repay that debt.

The other Klingons scattered, all of them old and horribly out of practice, but eager to finally have a chance to redeem their dishonor from a lifetime ago. The only ones left were Gi'ral, Tokath and Ba'el.

Gi'ral embraced her husband, "Thank you," she said to him sincerely, and he knew her gratitude was not just for this last deed, but for the life they'd shared.

"You do not have to do this."

"Yes, I do. I need to do this. Just promise me you will get our daughter to safety."

Tokath had no idea if he could, but he also knew his wife was about to die and what she needed to hear was that he would, "I promise, I will."

Ba'el was in shock. Five minutes ago she was prepping for a birthday celebration. Now her world was crashing down around her. She stood there paralyzed as her father gripped her arm, "Come, daughter, we must go."

"Mother?" she whimpered, tears streaming down her face.

Gi'ral took her face in her hands and looked into her eyes, "It is time for you to go, time for you to live your life. Never forget, you have the heart of a Klingon and you are strong. You will know what to do. You will survive."

"But what about you?"

She smiled, a peaceful and contented smile, "It is time for me to go as well."

* * *

The hum of the Romulan vessel kept Ba'el up at night. She wasn't used to constantly hearing engines rumbling beneath her, she was used to the sounds of the jungle as it came alive at sundown. She was used to the animal calls, the birds, and the wind through the trees, not this. It had been three days since she'd seen the sun and she thought she might go insane.

There was a beeping sound coming from the door to her quarters. Ba'el had learned that meant someone was trying to come in. She'd never heard anything but knocking on door before now, "Come in."

It was her father. That didn't surprise her seeing that he was the only person on this ship that would speak to her. The rest just gave her odd looks, or avoided looking at her altogether.

"We are almost there," he said gently.

She nodded.

"How are you feeling? Have you eaten?"

"No, not today."

"You have to eat, Ba'el. Do you need help with using the replicator? It took me awhile to remember some things; I haven't been on a ship since before you were born."

She shook her head.

"You know, my offer still stands. You could come to Romulus with me."

That got a response out of her, "Oh no. If the stares, or lack thereof, on this ship are any indication of what life will be like on Romulus then there's no way."

"Our surgeon can have you… altered," he said gingerly, motioning to her forehead.

Ba'el touched her ridges, "No, I can't do that. Mother would hate that."

The mention of Gi'ral made them both quiet for a moment. Tokath sat next to her, "Alright then. You are sure you want to go looking for… for him?"

"Yes. I have told you Father, I have to find Worf. I have to," she couldn't even begin to explain to her father how much finding Worf meant to her. Ba'el had spent the years since Worf left Carraya IV thinking of nothing but him. She wondered where he was, what he was doing. She filled her days thinking about what their life would have been like if she had gone with him and her nights dreaming of one day reuniting with him. Worf would have missed her just as much as she missed him. She would apologize for not going with him and he would understand. He'd take her in his arms and they'd be together, just as they had on his last night, but instead it would be every night, forever…

Tokath sighed, "I told you I would look for as much information as I could about Worf," he began, "And we were able to use our intelligence to find some basic biographical data."

Ba'el perked up, "Then you know where he is?"

"You know, the colony where everyone went years ago, Pheben III, will not take long to get to at all. Just one transport ship and you could meet up with Toq and all the others. I bet they would love to see you."

"Father, I know you were never fond of Worf but after everything that has happened you have to let it go. I bet he has."

"It's not that, Ba'el. How much do you even know about Worf? You are putting a lot of faith in someone you only knew for a short time."

"I know his heart and he knows mine. Now please, tell me what you found."

Tokath was trying to protect his daughter as he always did. But he realized maybe that was the problem; he tried too hard to shelter her. Some things she'd have to learn for herself, even if it hurt, "Now keep in mind, our intelligence might not be up to date. The most recent information we have on Worf is that he is a Starfleet Officer, he holds the rank of Lieutenant Commander and he serves on a space station called Deep Space Nine."

"Is that far from here?"

"Yes. It will take you at least a week by transport vessel, maybe two. Pheben III is only a day or two away."

"I'm enjoying space travel so far, a week on a transport ship sounds fine," that was a lie, she hated this ship but she'd do anything if it got her to Worf, "What else?"

"There's not much else you would need to know, just one more thing," Tokath paused, "Worf is married."

 _Married_? The word hit Ba'el like a ton of bricks. She felt as if she'd been slapped in the face or punched in the gut. She gasped, and then could barely catch her breath.

"I am sorry, Ba'el. I did not want to have to tell you. I was hoping to convince you to go elsewhere so you wouldn't have to find out."

"You cannot keep lying to me to protect me," she managed to say.

"I know. That's why I told you," Tokath stood, "I'll let you have a moment to yourself to process this. I'll go see if we can rendezvous with a transport vessel heading towards the Pheben System.

"No," she began, "I told you, I need to see Worf."

"Did you not understand what I told you?"

"You said the information might be incorrect…"

" _Incomplete_ perhaps, but if it says he's married I doubt someone would add that erroneously."

"I need to see him," Ba'el said definitively, "I very well might end up on Pheben III soon after, but I need to see Worf first."

Another sigh from Tokath, "Very well. I will arrange your passage to Deep Space Nine."

* * *

After twelve days and three transport ships, Ba'el dock at Space Station Deep Space Nine. Her father had given her a litany of advice before they said goodbye on what would quite possibly be the last time they ever saw one another. Her story was that she'd lived her whole life on a remote farming colony and that if anyone asked about her ears, she was to tell them she was half Vulcan. Neither of which were complete lies.

She kept to herself, listened to much yet said very little, and by the time she got to the space station, Ba'el began to feel a little more comfortable being on her own and away from Carraya. She'd even met a friendly woman, a Bajoran, on the last leg of the trip. The two waited together for the ship to get docking clearance at the station.

"Is this your last stop?" Ba'el asked the woman.

"Almost. I have to catch another transport to Bajor, but that only takes a few hours."

"Have you ever been to this station? I need to find someone and I don't know where to begin."

"Oh, yeah, all the time. Head to Quark's. Anything, or anyone, you need on DS9 you can find at Quark's."

So that's what she did. As the passengers rushed off the ship Ba'el walked slowly, her newfound courage began to drain away with every step she took in this foreign place. It didn't look like any of the transports ships, the dark gray, odd angles and imposing arches seemed ominous to her. As she walked, Ba'el passed a pair of Klingon women in the corridors and wondered if one of them was the woman Worf had chosen to mate with. She'd forced herself to not think of Worf's wife but now that she was here she couldn't hide from it anymore.

What a fool she'd been, all these years thinking Worf would wait for her. He'd moved on, he lived his life and understandably so. Ba'el chose to stay behind and this was the consequence. Would Worf even remember who she was? And what would she say to him? Would his wife be with him or would she get to talk to him alone? Naively, none of the daydreamed scenarios of reuniting with her one true love had ever involved his wife.

Just as she began seriously consider turning right back around and heading for Pheben III, she came upon Quark's Bar and Restaurant. Her mother's words resonated with her, " _Never forget, you have the heart of a Klingon and you are strong. You will know what to do._ "

Ba'el entered the establishment, her hands tightly gripping the strap of her pack. The room was filled with people, some eating, some drinking, and some playing games. She looked up and could see a second floor where more people congregated. There was a bar near the entrance where several men were serving drinks to people who requested them. She'd have to start somewhere. Ba'el took a deep breath and walked to the bar. She sat on one of the stools and patiently waited for several minutes. No one came to her.

"Excuse me? Um… excuse me?"

One of the men stopped. Like many people on this station, he was a species she didn't recognize, "Sorry, it's always busy when a transport ship docks. What can I get you?"

"I, I'm looking for someone. Perhaps you can help me?" Ba'el stammered nervously.

He seemed annoyed, "Then you don't want to order anything?"

"No, I'm sorry. I just don't know who to ask. Should I ask someone else?"

Quark sighed. She was awfully nice and polite for a Klingon woman so he figured he'd help her out, "No one else on the station knows people better than I do. Who are you looking for?"

"Worf. I mean, Lieutenant Commander Worf."

That's not the response he was expecting. "Now what would a pretty lady like you want with him?"

Ba'el frowned, "I don't understand what you mean by that."

"Eh, forget it. He's probably on duty, that's all he does. Though I think he's got a holosuite reservation later on and he never misses that. You can wait here if you'd like."

Ba'el was relieved to know that she was in the right place and Worf was indeed there, "Thank You."

Quark looked at the Klingon woman for a moment. She was looking around at everything like she'd never been in a bar before and clutching her bag as if someone would take it at any moment. If he didn't know any better he'd say she was terrified. Something was going on here and Quark made it his business to know everyone else's business. He placed a cup of raktajino in front of her, "Here, you look like you could use this."

"Thank you," Ba'el took a sip and frowned, "Ew, um, what is this?" she tried to be polite but it was obvious that she hated it.

Quark laughed, "A Klingon that doesn't like raktajino? Let me guess, you want a prune juice?"

Ba'el was confused, "Prune juice?"

Quark was just about to ask how someone could know Worf and not know what prune juice was, but he was interrupted, "Ugh, what a day. I need something strong Quark."

His eyes went from Ba'el to the woman who'd just walked in and then back again, "We have someone new on the station, a friend of Worf's apparently," he said, waiting to see what kind of reaction that elicited.

Ba'el turned to look at the woman the bartender was addressing. She had fair skin, much lighter than any Klingon or even Romulan for that matter. Her hair was dark brown and her eyes were a piercing shade of blue. Her face and neck were framed with intricate spots. As was with most things these days, she'd never seen anything like it and It was hard for Ba'el not to stare.

"You know Worf?" the woman asked.

"Yes, but it has been a very long time since we've seen each other."

"I think he's in ops right now, is he expecting you?"

"No, we have not spoken in years" Ba'el replied, "But I've traveled a long way to find him. My name is Ba'el."

The woman with the blue eyes looked at Ba'el for a moment. She racked her brain trying to remember if Worf had ever mentioned that name. He hadn't. "Well welcome to Deep Space Nine, Ba'el. I'm Dax."

 _ **THANK YOU FOR READING! PLEASE TAKE A MOMENT TO REVIEW AND TELL ME WHAT YOU THINK!**_


	3. Chapter 3

**Ba'el**

By: Ginomo

Based on the TNG episode, "Birthright Part II." While aboard the Enterprise, Worf traveled to a Romulan prison camp and fell for Ba'el, the daughter of the Romulan commander and one of the Klingon prisoners. Years later, the Dominion War brings Ba'el to Deep Space Nine and back into Worf's life.

* * *

 **Chapter 3**

"It is nice to meet you, Dax."

"So, how long will you be on the station?"

Ba'el didn't know how to answer that. She'd had the singular goal of finding Worf for so long that she'd given little thought to what would happen after she found him, "I am not sure…"

Just as Dax was debating whether to not to ask Ba'el more about how she knew Worf, her comm badge sounded, " _Sisko to Dax_."

She tapped the badge on her chest, "Dax here."

" _If you've got a minute, Old Man, I need to see you in my office_."

"Sure thing Benjamin," Dax turned to Quark, "I'll have to get that drink a little later," and then to Ba'el, "If you decide to stay with us here on the station then perhaps we'll meet again."

"Yes, perhaps."

As Dax left the bar, Quark traded Ba'el's raktajino for a Tarkalean tea. She seemed much more satisfied with that She sat there patiently, her gaze alternating between the sights of the bar and the people filing in and out of the door. Quark noticed.

"You know, Worf usually uses holosuite 3, upstairs. If you wait for him up there you'll be sure to catch him."

Ba'el glanced upward to where he was pointing, "Okay. Thank you."

Ba'el took at seat at a small table on the second floor just as the bartender had suggested. She could indeed see the whole bar and restaurant from here, she wouldn't miss Worf when he came in. It was quiet up there, away from all the bustle of the rest of the establishment. It gave Ba'el a moment to get her bearings and decide how she wanted to proceed.

She came here to find Worf. Any minute now and that would be happening. But then what? How would he react? A lot could happen in six year, and if those reports her father got a hold of were correct, a lot had happened for Worf.

Down below, Lieutenant Commander Worf entered Quark's bar. He had his mek'leth in hand and an impatient glare on his face. Quark saw him come in and held out a small transaction padd to him. Worf pressed his thumb to it, "Is number three open?" he asked.

"As always."

Worf nodded agreeably.

Just as Worf began walking away, Quark stopped him, "Are you expecting someone?"

"Excuse me?"

"I know it's crazy but there's an actual real live person here looking for you. I take it you weren't aware?"

Worf looked around, "Where?"

"I sent her upstairs, she's waiting for you by the holosuite entrance."

" _She_?"

Quark smirked, "Oh, I'm betting there's a good story to this."

Worf scowled and without a word, made the climb up the narrow spiral staircase. Who could possibly be coming to DS9 looking for him? And a woman no less?

Ba'el stood, and took a deep breath. She could hear his footfalls on the metal stairs and the pounding in her chest grew louder with every step he took. Ba'el was trying to force herself to calm down or she'd never get through this without passing out. Gradually she could see him ascending until he was there. It was him. It was him. She gripped the back of her chair to help steady herself.

Worf's didn't give much credence to this person supposedly waiting for him, it was probably Quark just trying to be funny. His mind was instead on work, he had a ton of things to do but he needed a break. After an hour or so of working out some aggression, he could go back and tackle the next set of intelligence reports with a clearer head.

That was his plan for the night, but when he got to the top of the stairs, all that vanished. There was a small seating area near the entrance to his holosuite and the tables up there were empty tonight, expect for one person. It had been years since he'd spoken her name, but in that moment he knew it could be no one else but her.

"Ba'el?"

She nodded, "Yes, Worf, it's me."

They stood in stunned silence for a moment. Ba'el studied Worf's face. It was definitely him but he looked different somehow. His shoulders sagged tiredly and there was something in his eyes, an emptiness. It was as if he had lived a lifetime since she last saw him.

As Worf looked at Ba'el, the time they spent together all those years ago came flooding back. Worf took a few steps toward her, but stopped before getting too close.

"How...?"

"It is a very long story. But I'm here."

"I… I never thought I would see you again."

"I would like to speak to you, can we sit down together?" Ba'el asked, motioning to the table.

"Not here," suddenly, Worf felt extremely self-conscious, "Come with me," instinctively, he reached down and grabbed her hand. Ba'el looked at her hand in his and felt as if she might faint. Worf led her out of the bar's second floor exit.

"Where are we going?" she asked.

"To my quarters, we can speak privately there."

"Your quarters? Where you live?"

"Yes," Worf let go of her hand as they walked along the promenade towards the habitat ring.

As they walked in silence Ba'el couldn't help but think about Worf's wife and what she would say if she came home and found Ba'el there. Then again, if Worf didn't think it was a problem, she wasn't going to ask. There really was nothing wrong with two old friends talking. She glanced up at Worf, his stoic gazed was fixed straight ahead. She couldn't read him at all, which had not been the case years ago on Carraya. There, he wore his feelings for her on his sleeve. Now, Ba'el had no idea if he has happy or annoyed that she was here.

Worf opened the door to his quarters and allowed Ba'el to enter first. She stepped in gingerly and looked around at what was her first real glimpse into his world. Everything was neat and orderly, it hardly looked like one person lived here, let alone two. On one wall hung a pair of Klingon swords, there was a display of knives and a pair of gold crowns on another and shelves filled with books lined the third. But Ba'el was drawn to the view out the large oval shaped windows. She stood before them in awe.

"This is just amazing," she said. One ship was docking as another was speeding away from the station, "I have spent the last several weeks just staring at the stars. I had never seen anything like this before."

Worf stood by the door watching Ba'el, his mind was racing. He let her look out the windows while he tried to gather his thoughts. How was this happening? How did she get here? He'd honestly hadn't thought about Ba'el in years, especially once he came to DS9 and met Jadzia. But now she was back in his life and he had no idea how to even begin processing it.

"Can I get anything for you? Something to eat perhaps?" Worf finally asked.

"No, thank you," Ba'el turned from the window to face him, "I suppose you're wondering how I got here."

"Yes."

She sighed, "It happened suddenly. One minute I was living life as usual, and the next I was hiding in the jungle from the Dominion."

"They attacked the compound," Worf stated.

"Yes," Ba'el crossed the room and sat on the couch, "The supply ships were coming less and less frequently. We really didn't know when to expect them. My father told us about a war that the entire quadrant was fighting and that once Romulus joined, their resources were needed elsewhere. So we were pretty much on our own. The last of the Romulan guards left about a year ago, except for my father of course. L'Kor and some of the other Klingons took up hunting to help keep us fed. My father never went with them and rarely ate anything they caught. I think he was lonely in those last months."

"How did you survive and escape the attack?" Worf asked as he sat next to her.

Ba'el recounted the story of how the Klingons sacrificed themselves for her, "My father and I stayed in the jungle until the Dominion ship left orbit. When we went back to the compound…" her voice began to waver, "They'd killed them all. Men and women who hadn't fought in almost thirty years killed every Jem'Hadar in the landing party."

"Did any of them survive?"

She shook her head, "No."

"They died warriors," Worf had the same reverent gleam in his eye that L'Kor did when she last saw him.

"My father was able to get us aboard a Romulan ship. He wanted me to go with him to Romulus, or to even go find Toq and the others, but I was insistent," she paused as her eyes met his, "I had to find you."

Worf didn't know what to say.

Ba'el continued, "I made the choice all those years ago to stay behind. I tried to deny it but you were right, I was afraid. As badly as I wanted to go with you, I let my fear paralyze me. I had to find you because I wanted you to know how sorry I was- _am_. It was nothing you did, it was me."

"You do not have to apologize to me, Ba'el."

"I feel like I led you on that last night we spent… together. I should have just told you that I wasn't going to go with you, but the truth is I really wanted to have that night with you. And I have thought of nothing else for the last six years."

Worf could feel his face flush as the memory of that night came back to him. What she was telling him was no surprise, he knew then that she wouldn't be able to leave Carraya. In a way, it was somewhat of a relief for him. Worf had never been good with relationships and Ba'el choosing to stay behind meant he didn't have to figure out how to make things work between the two of them.

They sat in an uneasy silence for a moment. Ba'el spoke up, "You know, I think I am a little hungry."

Worf quickly stood and headed for the replicator; preparing dinner gave him something to do. Ba'el could sense his trepidation; for years she pictured their reunion going very differently than this. They were supposed to profess how the years apart only made their love stronger and pick up where they left off. Instead, she just felt awkwardly out of place and was thinking she should have taken her father's advice and gone to the farming colony.

As they ate together, Ba'el continued telling Worf what life had been like on Carraya after he and the others left while Worf tried to get her up to speed on the political climate of the alpha quadrant. Once they were finished and the dishes were back in the replicator, Worf asked, "It is getting late, have you arranged quarters for yourself here on the station?"

"No, I, well to be honest I didn't give much thought to what would happen after finding you. You helped the others start lives outside of Carraya, I had hoped you could do the same for me."

"Well, if you would like, you can stay here until you decide what you would like to do."

"Here, in your quarters?" she asked.

"You can have the bedroom. This way," Worf led her to the small bedroom in his quarters, "I hope this will suffice for now."

Ba'el entered the room, "Of course, but, what about you?"

"The couch will be more than enough for me."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, it is fine," what he didn't mention was that it wasn't uncommon at all for him to sleep on the couch these days.

Ba'el looked around the room, her eyes settling on a picture that sat on the bedside table. Without thinking she walked towards it and picked it up. It was Worf and a woman, they were dressed similarly- both in elaborate red outfits with gold crowns. They were embracing one another.

Worf had managed to stay away from this topic the entire evening, but there was no avoiding it now. The question on Ba'el's face was apparent, so Worf answered it before she could ask, "That is Jadzia, my wife."

Ba'el thought she might be sick, her stomach was queasy and her head felt light. So it was true, then, "Your wife?" was all she managed to squeak out, still staring at the woman who looked nothing like she imagined Worf's wife would.

He nodded, "Yes," Worf paused, saying these next words was still so very hard, "She died several months ago."

"What?" Ba'el quickly turned to face him.

"One of the many casualties of this war."

"Oh Worf…" Ba'el set the picture back in its place and took a step towards him. Defensively Worf stepped back.

"I need to return to my post," he said, changing the subject, "Please make yourself comfortable. It may be several hours before I return."

"Okay."

Worf nodded respectfully, "Good night."

He left quickly and Ba'el could hear the main door to the quarters swish open and then closed. She looked around again and sighed. Her gaze settled on the picture once again. Now it made sense. It may have been six years since they were together, but she could tell something was wrong as soon as she saw Worf earlier that evening. Maybe it was fate, or destiny or whatever but now Ba'el knew why she was there. Had she come back into his life a year or two ago he would not have needed her, but right now he did. The fire that was in his eyes when they first met was gone. Just as he had helped them years ago, Ba'el decided her purpose here was to help him get that fire back.


	4. Chapter 4

**Ba'el**

By: Ginomo

Based on the TNG episode, "Birthright Part II." While aboard the Enterprise, Worf traveled to a Romulan prison camp and fell for Ba'el, the daughter of the Romulan commander and one of the Klingon prisoners. Years later, the Dominion War brings Ba'el to Deep Space Nine and back into Worf's life.

* * *

 **Chapter 4**

Ezri Dax found a kiosk on the promenade and pretended to be intensely interested in whatever the merchant was selling. She was across from the replimat, where a familiar pair was sitting and having lunch. In the last few weeks, Worf and Ba'el had become a fixture around the station. Meals shared on the replimat, holosuite reservations; Worf was even voluntarily going into Quark's and actually enjoying it.

Ezri was trying to convince herself that she wasn't being intrusive; she was just looking out for Worf. Who was this woman anyway? Worf didn't like anyone, yet this woman Ezri has never heard of before appears out of nowhere and just like that he's living with her and spending all his free time with her.

Out of the corner of her eye, Ezri could see Worf stand and walk away, leaving Ba'el alone at the table, but not before gently placing his hand on hers. And was that a smile he gave her? Ezri paused, thought a moment, and then headed for the chair Worf had just left empty.

"Ba'el?" Ezri asked, as if she didn't remember her name.

"Yes?"

"Hi, um, we met in Quark's…"

"Yes?"

"I just was wondering how you're adjusting to life on the station?" Ezri felt so awkward. Jadzia would have known exactly how to weasel her way into Worf's private life.

"I'm doing well. I'm sorry, your name escapes me..."

"Ezri," she took that as an invitation to sit. She didn't get the impression Ba'el was making the connection between herself and Jadzia, "Station's counselor."

"Counselor? So people come to talk to you about their problems?"

"More or less."

"I can't imagine what it must be like to take on everyone else's issues, especially in light of the war going on."

"I enjoy getting to know people, to know their stories and what makes them who they are. A good counselor just helps a person discover themselves, that's all."

"I feel like that's what I'm doing every day here, discovering a little more about myself."

Ezri smiled, "That's good. So you're going to stay, then?"

"I'd like to. I guess that depends on Worf."

"On Worf?"

"Yes, Lieutenant Commander Worf. Do you know him?"

Ezri felt her stomach clench a little. She shifted her legs anxiously, "I, I haven't been on the station long but I know Worf," and after a little nervous laugh, "Everyone knows Worf, he's kind of hard to miss."

"Well, I think I'm still trying to figure him out."

Ezri smiled, "Let me rephrase- everyone knows who Worf _is_. I don't think anyone really _knows_ him."

"I thought I did," Ba'el began, "We met years ago and became very close, but things are different. I'm not sure where we stand now..." Ba'el let her voice trail off.

It didn't take a Starfleet trained counselor to read Ba'el right now; Ezri could tell by the yearning, wistful look on her face that she loved Worf. And like other women before her, she was learning that loving Worf was not easy.

"Worf takes relationships very seriously," Ezri stopped herself, she didn't want to let on that she knew Worf as well as she did, "I mean, Klingons take relationships seriously. It won't take him long to make his intentions clear. Then again, I'm sure you already know that."

"Actually, I still have a lot to learn about how Klingons do things. Worf is teaching me."

This was getting more and more interesting. This woman, a woman who didn't even look fully Klingon, was getting lessons on how to be one from Worf. Ezri felt like she had more questions than answers now.

"Well, believe or not, I'm rather well versed in 'The Way of the Warrior' myself. If you ever need any supplemental knowledge, feel free to ask," Ezri replied with a smile.

"Thank you," Ba'el returned the smile.

* * *

"So is that her?"

"Mmm Hmm."

"She's beautiful."

"Yeah, I know."

"So what's the problem?"

"She hasn't left his side since she got here."

It had been several days since Ezri spoke to Ba'el. Now it was she and Sisko sitting on the replimat having their morning coffee. Worf was off duty today and she and Benjamin spotted Worf and Ba'el walking along the promenade together. The pair was on the upper level near the view ports. They stopped for a moment, Worf pointed in the distance and Ba'el looked out into space. After a moment, the wormhole opened, lighting up the sky. Ba'el's eyes lit up right along with it. A huge grin spread across her face and when she smiled up at Worf, he smiled back. Worf placed his arm around her waist and gently pulled her closer as they both gazed at the swirling colors of the wormhole.

Ben watched Ezri watch them. He stroked his beard as he thought about how to approach this, "And that's a problem?" he finally asked.

"I don't know anything about her. She says she knows Worf from years ago, but Worf never mentioned her to Jadzia. I can't figure out where she came from or what she's doing here."

Sisko took a sip from his cup, "You think Worf can't handle himself with a pretty lady?"

"Of course he can," she paused, "He's just very vulnerable right now. He's never been good at this kind of thing."

"He was good enough for Jadzia," Ben pointed out.

"Jadzia knew Worf, she knew what he needed and how to handle him. This woman doesn't know him like I do."

Across the promenade, Ba'el and Worf were heading away from where they'd been standing and towards the habitat ring. Ba'el had her arm looped in Worf's the same way Jadzia used to. Ezri felt her stomach clench the way it did every time she saw them together.

"Like _you_ do?"

"Well, I meant, like Jadzia."

"Old Man," Ben began, "When you decided to stay here on the station you had to know there was a very real possibility that you'd be seeing Worf move on with someone else."

"Well, of course, Benjamin. I just don't want him to get hurt. He's been through so much already."

"You know, you and I have had the privilege of being friends through three of your lifetimes. After all that, I imagine it would be very hard for me to watch you live your life without being able to be a part of it. And we weren't married."

"You think I'm jealous, don't you?"

"I didn't say that."

"Well, I'm not. I'm just worried."

"Worf's a big boy, he can take care of himself. But it could mean he might get his heart broken a time or two."

Ezri shook her head, "I can't let that happen to him," she whispered.

"Worf lost his wife, but you also lost your husband. Watching him take the first steps towards moving on can't be easy."

Ezri opened her mouth to speak, to object, but she couldn't find the words. She had never thought about the end of her life as Jadzia Dax in that way, but it was true. Worf had been her husband and now he was not. It was understandable that Worf be allowed to grieve that loss, but she hadn't given herself the same consideration. And now, seeing him with someone else was overwhelming.

"I… I need to get back to my office," Ezri stood and quickly and left, before Sisko could see her eyes filling with tears.

* * *

"I think I might be hopeless," Ba'el said handing her weapon to Worf as they entered their quarters.

Worf couldn't argue with that, "No matter, there are many other ways to serve the Empire."

"What about you? You are obviously a trained Klingon warrior, but you live here, amongst all these other species."

Worf bristled. He normally got defensive when someone questioned why he was in Starfleet and not the Klingon Defense Force, but he remembered who was asking, "It is… complicated."

Ba'el sat, "Tell me."

"After the Romulan attack on Khitomer, you know I was rescued by humans. The Starfleet officer and his wife who took me in became my adopted parents and I was raised by them, first on a small farming colony and then on Earth. When I was old enough, I followed in my adoptive father's footsteps and joined Starfleet. But all the while I devoted my life to studying the ways of my people. Now, I am able to serve both the Federation and the Empire. "

"You are torn between two cultures like I am. You may not be part Human, but Humans are still part of your life."

Worf nodded, "I suppose that is correct. And it has never been easy."

"You've taught me a great deal about our people and culture since I've been here. Yet there's so much out there, I'd love to experience something from another culture as well."

Worf thought a moment, "I think I know just the thing."

* * *

It had been months since Worf stepped through the doors of Vic's. Unlike the other times when Worf preferred an empty lounge, this time there was crowd of holographic patrons beginning to take their seats. Ba'el gripped Worf's arm nervously as they entered the holosuite.

"What is this place?"

"It is a recreation of an establishment on Earth."

"It reminds me of Quark's," she said.

"It is similar. But I thought it was a good way to show you some human cultural practices," he led her to a table near the dance floor.

Vic was getting the band warmed up when he saw Worf enter. He never came in here at the start of a set like this, and most certainly never brought a date with him before. Vic had to stop by their table to speak to him.

"Pally! Long time no see!"

"It has been a long time," Worf replied, "And that is probably a good thing."

Vic laughed, "Hey, you're always welcome here no matter what. So, who's the lovely lady?"

"This is Ba'el."

"Vic Fontaine, I can't tell you what a pleasure it is to meet you," Vic said with a big smile. He reached for her hand and placed a kiss on the center of it. No one had ever done that to her before, Ba'el gave Worf a puzzled look.

"Thank you, it is nice to meet you Vic Fontaine," she said quietly.

Vic looked at the two of them, he might not know Klingons but he knew men and women. This was good. This was very good, "I'm gonna make sure the band puts on a special show for you two."

The lights dimmed and the music started. Vic thought very carefully about which songs he wanted to play and which ones to avoid. He decided to start with " _Come Fly with Me_."

"This is definitely different from Klingon opera," Ba'el remarked.

"Very. But I have learned to have an appreciation for it."

She looked around and could see couples standing from their chairs and moving to the open spot in the center of the room. They were standing closely, holding hands and moving in in time with the music.

"What are they doing?" she asked.

"Dancing."

"Have you ever done it?"

Worf thought a moment before deciding to answer honestly, "Yes. But, rarely."

She laughed at the hesitation in his voice, "Well, then I won't ask you to."

As they sat quietly listening to the music, Worf stole a glance at Ba'el who was smiling and taking it all in. It was hard not to be smitten by her endearing innocence. Everything was new to her, everything was an experience to learn from and Worf had the honor of sharing moments like this with her.

Having her here with him these last few weeks had been better than he'd anticipated. He initially only agreed to let her stay because he knew she had nowhere else to go and Worf felt responsible for her. But, as the days went on, he looked forward to seeing her when he got home from his duty shift and enjoyed spending time with her. His home wasn't empty anymore and Ba'el's presence calmed the turmoil that was within him.

Worf stood and extended a hand, "Would you like to dance?"

"Seriously?"

"Yes."

"Well, okay," Ba'el stood and took his hand.

Worf led her to the dance floor and pulled her close, closer than they had been to one another since she arrived.

"What do I do?" she asked.

"It is not difficult. Follow my lead, step where I step… just not on my feet."

She smiled, "No promises."

Vic saw the two of them together and decided to segway into " _The Way You Look Tonight._ "

"I am glad you are here," Worf said quietly to her.

"I am too. I have missed you so very much, Worf. I know that a lot has happened for you over the years but nothing has changed for me. Nothing."

On Carraya IV, Worf fell hard and fast for Ba'el. It didn't make any sense; she was a half Romulan that was ten years younger than him and completely oblivious to everything he held dear. Yet, he was drawn to her in a way that he could not explain, both then and now.

In that moment, Worf remembered her mother's words from years ago, _You are a man, and she is a woman._ He leaned toward her and kissed her lips gently. Worf pulled his mouth away from hers, but Ba'el wanted more and kissed him again. Her hands looped around his neck as the kissed deepened; she decided she liked this dancing thing very, very much.

* * *

"Thank you for tonight. I really enjoyed it."

"You are welcome."

"I suppose I should turn in for the night…"

Worf nodded, "Yes, well, good night."

They stood before one another at the door to Worf's bedroom that had become Ba'el's. They were as close as they had been earlier that night dancing at Vic's. After a moment, Ba'el reached down and took Worf's hand in hers, "I can't let you keep sleeping on the couch," she whispered.

"Does that mean you want to switch?" Worf asked with a smirk.

"No," She reached up and touched his face, "That means I want you to sleep with me."

The desire in Ba'el's voice was palpable and Worf could no longer resist. His arms were around her instantly, he pulled her body close into his and kissed her again. Ba'el gripped his shoulders and let herself sink into his embrace. In an instant, she could feel herself being lifted into his strong arms. Worf walked her over to his bed before placing her gently onto it. He was consciously reining himself in, not quite sure Ba'el's bones were ready for a lesson on the full extent of Klingon passion.

Worf watched her as she slowly removed her dress, revealing that which he hadn't seen in six years. It all came back to him and she was just as beautiful as she had been then. Worf's uniform came off much faster and when he lied down next to her, Ba'el took a moment to run her fingers over his muscular body. There was an assortment of raised scars all along his chest and arms that she didn't remember being there before. Instinctively, she brought her lips to them, placing kisses on each one. Ba'el wanted nothing more than to heal every part of Worf.

With Worf lying on his back Ba'el straddled his thighs, letting her long hair cascade over him and her breasts press against his chest. He felt intoxicated, enveloped by her in every way. Everything else disappeared and it was just him and what he felt for this woman right now. Worf's hands made their way down to her hips. He paused and looked into her eyes; Ba'el let him know this was exactly what she wanted without saying a word.

They moved together as one, their dance from earlier that night had taken on an entirely new rhythm. Worf buried his lips in the soft folds of her neck and while he wasn't looking, Ba'el reached over to the picture on the bedside table and quietly placed it face down.

* * *

 _ **Hope you enjoyed the little Dax cliffhanger! I really went back and forth about whether to set this before or after Jadzia's death but ultimately went with after because I felt that it would have been too far out of Worf's character to even consider being unfaithful to his wife. I have a fanfic, "The Perfect Mate" that explores Worf's fidelity, but it is set before they are married. Even with Jadzia being dead, in the coming chapters Worf will still wrestle with what it means to honor his wife.**_


	5. Chapter 5

**Ba'el**

By: Ginomo

Based on the TNG episode, "Birthright Part II." While aboard the Enterprise, Worf traveled to a Romulan prison camp and fell for Ba'el, the daughter of the Romulan commander and one of the Klingon prisoners. Years later, the Dominion War brings Ba'el to Deep Space Nine and back into Worf's life.

* * *

 **Chapter 5**

"Vic told me yesterday that they've been to his club three times."

"Worf at Vic's? Three times? No way."

Dr. Bashir nodded, "That's what he said. And get this, they even dance."

Everyone at the table let out an audible gasp, "No way!" Miles exclaimed.

"That's what he said."

Ezri, Julian and Miles were gathered at Quark's discussing what had become the hottest topic on the station these days- Worf's love life. "So have you met her?" Chief O'Brien asked.

"I've spoken to her a few times. She's really very nice," Ezri said.

"Nice?" Julian asked.

"Not all Klingons are blood thirsty warriors," Ezri shrugged, "Some are nice."

"Isn't there a war out there that needs winning? Or is gossiping about Commander Worf part of the strategy?" Odo approached the group; his trademark gruff voice was accompanied by a disapproving scowl.

"We aren't gossiping," Miles replied, "We're just... discussing."

Odo folded his arms, "The only person on this station that values his privacy more than me is Commander Worf."

"Well, that's what makes it so good. Take Julian here, he never shuts up about his love life, or lack thereof. So talking about him is pointless."

"Gee, thanks Miles."

"But Worf on the other hand, he never tells anyone anything so that leaved us to fill in the blanks, and well, you should hear some of the stories floating around."

Odo grunted, "This makes wonder what things you all say about Kira and I."

Ezri smirked, "Oh, you don't want to know."

* * *

Over the next few weeks, life settled into an unlikely rhythm for Worf and Ba'el. She was there whenever his duty shift was over with his dinner ready and waiting. They spent their evenings together, either at home or out and about on the station. Sometimes it was trips to the holosuite, visits to the restaurants along the promenade, and even Quark's on occasion. This was everything she'd dreamed of for so many years. She was with Worf just as she'd always wanted. And yet...

Ba'el couldn't quite place it but it felt oddly empty. That last night they'd spent together on Carraya IV six years ago, she and Worf were like one flesh. He spoke gently, looked deeply into her eyes, and connected with her so powerfully that it brought her to tears. She'd replayed it over and over again in her mind and hadn't forgotten a single detail. Yet now, when they were together, Worf seemed far away. He was there, moving his body in all the same ways but it was as if she couldn't feel _him_. It didn't make any sense.

There were times that Ba'el wanted to talk to him about his wife, but Worf would not. He told her he had moved past it, that Jadzia had died, he sent her to Sto'Vo'Kor and that was the end. Worf told Ba'el that Klingons did not dwell on the dead, that to do so bound them to this world and dishonored their memory. Ba'el took him at his word- if Worf said Klingons didn't do it then who was she to argue? So she threw herself into being everything he could ever want or need with the hope that with time, he would tell her he loved her the way he had so long ago.

* * *

Ba'el waited anxiously at the airlock. The Klingon ship Gorkon was docking and on board was an old friend that Ba'el couldn't wait to see. When the gear finally rolled away, rowdy Klingon soldiers began spilling out into the corridor. She stood up on her toes trying to search for him in the crowd.

"Ba'el!"

"Toq!"

The pair ran to one another and hugged tightly, "I cannot tell you what a joy it is to see you right now. When I got your subspace transmission, I convinced our captain to dock here at Deep Space Nine for our routine refitting so that we could meet."

Ba'el took in the sight of her best friend, whom she hadn't seen since he left Carraya with Worf six years ago, "Toq, I can't believe it's you. You look so different!"

"The life of a soldier has matured me. I see you are just as beautiful as ever."

"Tell me everything," she said, "I want to hear about everything that's happened to you and the others since you left."

The two walked through the habitat ring together, "First, you must tell me about our parents. I read your letter, but I want to hear it from you."

Once again, Ba'el recounted that last day on Carraya IV. Toq listened intently. Just as she was finishing the story, they arrived at Worf's quarters. Ba'el entered the security code and they entered the room.

"Kahless was on their side. He blessed them with the deaths that they deserved. I wish I could have seen it," Toq had the same wistful look in his eyes that Worf did when she told the tale to him. Ba'el may have understood that was the Klingon way, but she did not share the sentiment they did. In her heart the only thing she wanted was for her mother to have lived.

"Yes, I suppose he was."

"So this is Worf's home?" Toq said as she looked around the quarters.

"Yes."

"And you live here with him?"

She nodded, "Yes."

"Is he here now?"

"No, Worf is commanding the Defiant on a scouting mission for the next few days. He goes on these periodically. Please, have a seat. Can I get you something?"

"No, just come sit with me. It's like I'm seeing my sister again after all these years."

"Okay, now you have to tell me what you have been doing. How did you end up on a Klingon ship?"

"Not long after moving to Pheben III, I decided to join the Klingon Defense Force. It was definitely a crash course in the ways of our people but I have loved it. The war has gone well for me, and through some strategic moves on my part I made the rank of 3rd officer on the Gorkon."

Ba'el could see how proud Toq was of his accomplishments. She was smiling from ear to ear along with him, "That is wonderful. I bet you've been all over the galaxy."

"I have seen and learned so much, and even then it's only a fraction of what's out there."

"I would love to be able to do that. Have you been to the Klingon Homeworld?"

Toq's eyes lit up, "I have. In fact, it is where my home is. My wife and children are there right now. It is an amazing place. I can't wait to take you there Ba'el."

Ba'el reached out and took his hand in hers, "What about the others? Did they all leave as well?"

"No, most stayed on Pheben. And I am sure they'd love to see you. The little ones have grown so much."

She hadn't realized how much she missed all of them. These were her playmates as a child and her companions growing up on Carraya, "Life was terribly lonely for me after you left. I missed you all so very much."

"You should have come with us. I never understood why you didn't."

Ba'el lowered her eyes and shook her head "I knew then there was no place for me out there. There still isn't, but this time I didn't have a choice, I had to leave Carraya. I'm safe here on DS9 with Worf."

"Safe? Safe from what?"

"From anyone finding out about me."

"So you've created another prison here for yourself in Worf's quarters? Carefully hiding away so that no one knows the truth?"

"I am not hiding," she whispered, not really convincing Toq or herself.

"And so what if they do find out?"

"People won't accept me if they knew."

"Accept yourself. That is all that matters."

Ba'el looked into Toq's eyes, "I am not as strong as you."

Toq gripped her shoulders, "You can be, Ba'el. You can be," he paused for a moment, "Come with me, and meet some of my crewmates."

"Oh no," she exclaimed, "A ship full of Klingons? I couldn't."

"Why not? You are Klingon. Has Worf not introduced you to others?"

She shook her head, "We keep to ourselves, mostly, Worf is very private. Besides, there are not that many Klingons on the station anyway."

Toq frowned, "That does not sound like to Worf I remember from Carraya."

"This is a very different place," Ba'el replied wistfully, agreeing with him.

"It sounds like he's hiding you away."

"Not at all!" Ba'el exclaimed, "He's been through a lot and he needs me here with him."

"Well he is not here right now," Toq took her hand, "Come on, let's get you out of this room."

* * *

The corridors of the IKS Gorkon were dimly let by a red glow and were several degrees warmer than the space station. Klingon officers passed by and offered respectful greetings as if Ba'el were no different from them. She walked as closely to Toq as she could, which made him laugh.

"It's okay, Ba'el. We're almost to the mess hall."

The entered the room, it was tight and stuffy and filled with people, "Do all these people serve on this ship?" she asked quietly.

"Most. Some are stationed on DS9 and are awaiting re-assignment. Whenever a Klingon vessel docks, you can be sure the mess hall is the place to be. Here, let's get you a cup."

Toq dipped a cup into a barrel and handed it to Ba'el. She took a sip- it burned going down and immediately her head felt light, "Is this Blood Wine?"

"You have never tasted it?"

"No. Worf offered it to me once, but I didn't take any."

"Well, you're with me now."

Toq found a place for them at the table and began introducing her to his friends. Apparently, she was the sister that had never left home that he'd told them all about. They all welcomed her voraciously, and began recanting the tales of the battles they'd fought alongside her brother; the glorious victories and the agonizing defeats. It reminded her of the way Worf kept them mesmerized on Carraya with his stories about the Klingon Empire. She remembered gazing up at him as he spoke, his animated face lit only by the fire pit. He didn't tell stories like that anymore.

It didn't take long for Ba'el to settle right in. She even knew the words to a few of the songs and joined in when the singing began. Seeing Toq so happy made her happy. That, plus the free flowing blood wine. This felt good. Even though she didn't know these people an hour ago, she felt like she belonged. She even had her first taste of gagh, and surprised herself by going back for seconds.

At the end of the night, Toq walked her back to the quarters she shared with Worf on the Cardassian space station.

"Thank you for that, Toq. I mean it."

He smiled brightly, "You are going to have one hell of a headache tomorrow."

Ba'el touched her forehead ridges, "I think it's starting already."

Toq took her hand in his, "I do not know what will become of you and Worf. I hope it works out the way you want it to. But if you ever need it, my home is open to you."

"Toq, I couldn't impose on your family like that."

"You are my family! My wife would be happy to have you there, and you could live among our people on the Klingon Homeworld. You could start a life of your own."

Ba'el reached out and hugged him, "Thank you. For everything."

* * *

The Defiant pulled into its mooring at DS9 with the familiar rumble that Worf had come to love. He knew this ship better than anyone. He could tell when the smallest thing was out of alignment and the crew knew that even though he wasn't the captain, when he was commanding, he demanded excellence.

Worf normally loved being on the Defiant. Even when he was upset about something, feeling the vibration of the deck plates put him at ease. For three years he'd also had the privilege of sitting being Lieutenant Commander Jadzia Dax. Worf commanded while she piloted. But now that seat had been filled by someone else. Today he couldn't stand to look at the back of Lieutenant DeSilva's head another minute. Today, Worf resented the fact that it wasn't her.

He left DeSilva to finish the docking sequence and collect the department reports, which surprised everyone since he was usually the last one off the ship. Today Worf just needed to get away from everyone. The problem was, there was no place to go.

When Worf got back to his quarters, Ba'el was there. He mumbled a barely audible greeting as he entered.

"These are amazing," Ba'el said, "On Carraya, I was only allowed to read Romulan history and literature. You have quite the collection of Klingon classics, I can't get enough of them."

Ba'el was sitting on the couch in their quarters reading. Absorbing as much information about everything she could had become her newest past time, and right now there were books spread all over the table. Worf's eyes darted to the bookshelves on the wall, Jadzia's bookshelves. They were empty.

Worf went to the table and began putting them all back, "You must be careful with these. They are very old, irreplaceable. And she likes them in a specific order," Worf was clearly annoyed as he carefully rearranged the books.

Ba'el caught the " _she_ " reference. These must have belonged to Jadzia, "I have been careful with them."

"Just do not touch them," he snapped.

Ba'el figured Worf was probably just worn out from the mission. Once he finished with the books he disappeared into the bedroom wordlessly. Worf plopped down on the bed and stared up at the ceiling, silently hoping Ba'el wouldn't come in to talk to him. He really wished she would go away right now. He didn't want her there; he didn't want anyone but Jadzia.

He turned his head to the side. Jadzia wasn't there.

"Ba'el!"

Ba'el heard Worf call her name and he sounded upset- very upset. Quickly, she stood and went to him, "Yes?"

Ba'el was startled by what she saw. The room was a mess; Worf was clearly searching frantically for something. The expression on his face was nothing Ba'el had ever seen. He was angry- very angry. His fists were clenched and his breathing was rapid.

"Where is it!?"

"Where is what?" she asked, her voice wavering.

"The picture. It was right here," Worf pointed to the bedside table, "And now I cannot find it."

Ba'el felt her stomach turn flips. She wanted to lie and say that she didn't know but Worf would figure it out and be even angrier, "I, I put it away."

"You did what?" Worf's voice was quieter now, eerily quiet.

"I'm sorry, I," she took a breath, "I put it on the shelf in the closet."

Worf disappeared into the closet and after rummaging around he emerged holding his wedding photo- he and Jadzia, dressed in red and embracing one another. Worf held the picture in his hands like it was the most precious thing he'd ever touched, "You had no right to touch this!" he snapped at her again, his voice dripping with contempt.

Ba'el wanted to say a dozen different things, but couldn't will her mouth to form the words. She wanted to know why, after almost a month, Worf decided to go looking for that picture. She wanted to know why she was expected to make love to him with his dead wife looking on. She wanted to know if she would ever be to him what Jadzia had been. But none of that came. Instead, without a word, Ba'el turned and left their- no, _his_ quarters. She walked as fast as she could as far as she could before the tears took over. They came on like a wave, her eyes filled to the point that she couldn't see anymore. Ba'el slumped against a wall and let the tears come.

Ezri Dax could hear what sounded like soft, faint crying in the distance. She turned a corner and sure enough, sitting against the wall in a lonely corridor of the habitat ring was a woman with her head on her knees and her impossibly long hair cascading over her legs. She knew right away who it was.

"Ba'el?"

The young woman looked up at Ezri, eyes red and bloodshot. Ezri got a quick glimpse of her ears and could swear they were… Vulcan? Ba'el quickly wiped her face and pushed her hair back over them before she could get a better look.

"Ezri, I can't believe you're seeing me like this."

Ezri kneeled down next to her, "What's wrong? Is there anything I can do?"

"No, I just," she sighed, "I don't even know what I'm doing here."

"It's Worf, isn't it?" Ezri asked, though she already knew the answer. Any woman who let herself fall for Worf was bound to end up in tears at one point or another.

"I can't figure him out. I thought things were going well and then today, he came home in a rage. In hindsight, I did something that I probably shouldn't have but he makes it so hard to know what he wants. He closes himself off in ways that he didn't when we first met years ago. Now there is this part of him that I just can't reach. I want to help him but he won't let me in."

Ezri drew in a breath. She knew this was wrong, continuing to speak to Ezri about her relationship with Worf without revealing who she really was, but she couldn't help herself, "You love him, don't you?" she asked, a part of her hoping the answer would be no.

"I do. I always have."

"I know it's hard, but you have to stand your ground with Worf. Be honest and up front. When he's doing something you don't like, call him on it. He might not like it, but he will respect you for it. Worf doesn't want anyone to know it, but he's very intense and he feels things very deeply. But his bark is far worse than his bite."

Ba'el didn't quite understand that last expression, but she got the general idea, "I think I need to figure out what it is that I want for myself first," she replied.

Ezri smiled, "That's a good place to start."

Ba'el stood, straightened her dress and smiled, "Thank you."

Ezri stood with her, "Anytime."

Ezri watched Ba'el walk away and before she knew it, she was the one with tears in her eyes.

* * *

When Ba'el finally returned, Worf was seated at the table, staring into a glass of blood wine. She entered silently, her head held high and proud just the way her mother would after she and Tokath fought about something. She was going to stand her ground, just like Ezri told her.

Worf looked up at her, the expression on his face was drastically different than it had been when Ba'el left, "I am sorry," he said quietly.

She didn't respond.

"I…" Worf began. He was barely able to speak but he knew he owed Ba'el an explanation. "Today is her birthday."

Worf couldn't say her name, but he didn't need to. The pain in his face, in his voice, was heartbreaking. His shoulders slumped, and had it been any other man he would have been in tears. Ba'el could feel the sorrow emanating from him as if it were her own.

"Oh, Worf, I had no idea. It's okay, really, I understa-"

"No," he interrupted her, "It is not okay. I behaved dishonorably. I let my emotions take over and you did not deserve that."

Ba'el wanted to go to him, but she could feel a wall between them. Instead she cautiously took a seat on the edge of the couch, "Perhaps you should speak to someone," maybe Ezri could help him the way she helped her?

"No, no, I will be fine. I just need to get through today. Tomorrow I am leaving with Martok on the Rotarran."

"You're leaving again? But you just got back!"

"This is my duty, Ba'el, and there is a war going on. I am the General's federation liaison and I haven't gone on a mission with him in some time."

"How long?" she asked.

"I do not know, a week perhaps."

They were quiet, neither knowing exactly what to say to the other right now. Worf finished what was in his cup and stood, "I am going back to the Defiant. I need to go over the mission intelligence before I leave with Martok tomorrow. I will probably not be back tonight."

She nodded, "Okay."

Worf headed toward the door but stopped before walking through it. He looked back at Ba'el and their eyes met for a moment, once again neither knew what to say to the other. Without a word, Worf stepped through the door and left.


	6. Chapter 6

**Ba'el**

By: Ginomo

Based on the TNG episode, "Birthright Part II." While aboard the Enterprise, Worf traveled to a Romulan prison camp and fell for Ba'el, the daughter of the Romulan commander and one of the Klingon prisoners. Years later, the Dominion War brings Ba'el to Deep Space Nine and back into Worf's life.

* * *

 **Chapter 6**

"No?"

"No! They made me Supreme Commander of the Ninth Fleet and as such, I cannot spare a single ship right now. Starfleet will have to go to their new friends the Romulans for reinforcements in the badlands."

Worf nodded. He figured General Martok would say that, but he'd told Captain Sisko he would ask nonetheless.

Commander Worf and the General sat in his captain's office, right off the bridge of the Rotarran. The two were doing the thing Martok hated the most, going over the seemingly endless stack of reports and briefings necessary to keep this fragile wartime alliance together.

The two men were quiet for a moment. Martok looked up from his padd at Worf, whose gazed was fixed on his own device, "I have decided not to take it personally that my brother, a man whom I have shed blood with more times than I can count, has taken a new mate without mentioning her to me once."

Worf's eyes snapped up from what he was reading. His hands clenched the padd he'd been holding so tightly that it nearly cracked, "What?"

Martok smirked, "You know what I'm talking about. News on DS9 travels faster than an outbreak of Urodelan Flu. And news about you and a woman, well that's damn near an epidemic."

"There is no news and I have not taken a new mate," Worf replied, his voice didn't hide how clearly annoyed he was at the implication.

"So then the rumors are untrue? There is no beautiful woman living in your quarters with you? You have not been taking a mysterious young lady to Quarks and to the holosuites?"

"You have not been to the station in over a month and yet you heard all this after being docked for one day?" Worf asked skeptically.

"Darok practically fell over himself coming to tell me."

"He gossips like an old woman," Worf growled.

Martok laughed, "His _is_ an old woman."

Worf was quiet for a moment. He knew Martok would eventually find out about Ba'el but he had been dreading it. Worf had no idea where to even begin, there was so much about Ba'el that Martok would never understand. Well, he'd understand he just wouldn't approve.

Finally, Worf spoke up, "What is it that you would like to know?"

Martok paused for a moment, then spoke, "Two years ago, you and I met in a prison camp deep in Dominion space. The enemy drove you hard, every day, just as they had done to me before you came. Every night, you spoke of your par'mach'kai. In all honesty I liked hearing you go on about her, it reminded me of when my love for Sirella was young and new. Your love for her was without question," Martok laughed a little, "It got to the point that I wanted to get out of there just so I could meet this Jadzia Dax, I had to see if a woman as glorious as you described actually existed."

Worf said nothing.

"And when it came time for you to finally marry! I thought I'd heard everything I could about Jadzia, but to my surprise I was wrong."

Worf knew where Martok was going with this, but he remained quiet.

"So, after all of that, imagine my surprise when I hear that you have taken up with someone else and I have not heard a single word about her from you, not even her name."

"Ba'el," Worf finally spoke up, "Her name is Ba'el."

"So she does exist. Is there anything else to her besides a name? Do I need to contact Sirella anytime soon?"

That got a quick response out of Worf, "Sirella? No, please do not." Worf knew there was no way Ba'el would ever be able to stand up to Sirella's scrutiny the way Jadzia had. And those ears she kept so carefully hidden, Worf didn't want to think about what a disaster that would be.

Martok nodded, "Worf you are my brother, not my son. That means you get to listen to my advice, but I will keep it brief. You do not love this woman and you don't need me to tell you that. I have seen you in love and this pales in comparison. The reality is, not every woman that warms our bed need be our wife. And if anyone deserves a little 'warmth' it is you, my friend. But be careful. If you tarry with this Ba'el too long you put both her honor and your own at risk," he paused, letting his words sink in, "Now, let's get back to these damned reports..."

* * *

Worf hated to admit it, but he always slept better in his bed on DS9 than he did on the Rotarran. Martok would probably say that's because his back had grown soft over the years, but then admit that he liked it better too. Tonight, it was more than just his soft back. Worf hadn't been able to stop thinking about his conversation with Martok from earlier that day.

Worf wondered if there was any of that blood wine from earlier left in the mess hall. At this time of night, the only people awake were the night watch crew, so he figured he'd be able to slip in without having to deal with anyone. Thankfully, the corridors were empty as Worf walked through them.

Unfortunately, the mess hall was not. One person sat alone at the table in the center of the room, head slightly bowed with a cup of the blood wine Worf was looking for in hand.

He was about to turn around and leave when the lone person looked up, "Commander, forgive me for not standing and saluting," It was Chief Engineer Tavana. She shook her cup a bit, "But I am not sure I _can_ stand."

Worf went over to the table and sat across from her, "What are you doing here so late?"

"I could ask you the same thing," her speech was slurred slightly, she clearly had been here for awhile. She took another drink, "Don't worry, I'm not on duty for another twelve hours."

Of all the times Worf had worked alongside Tavana he'd never seen her as anything other than composed and professional. He enjoyed her firm and calming presence. This woman who sat before him, hair disheveled, eyes drooping and lips wet with blood wine, was like another person.

"Are you alright?" Worf asked.

She smirked, "We Klingons aren't supposed to drink alone like this are we? Drinking is for merriment and celebration, not for drowning in our sorrows," she paused, and looked Worf in the eyes, "Don't worry, there's still three more barrels where this came from," she said as she slid an empty cup towards him.

Worf paused before taking the cup in his hand and dipping it generously in the nearby barrel. The wine burned as it went down. It felt good. Worf finished his first cup quickly before filling it again. They sat there quietly for a moment, drowning in their sorrows together.

Tavana broke the silence, "All that talk about two hearts joined together, beating as one. Spiritual journeys, bonded in this life and the next… yet when they die we are supposed to just forget about them."

Just then Worf remembered. Ortakin, an officer on the Rotarran and Tavana's mate, was killed in a recent battle. Worf had not seen her since it had happened, she took a short leave to see after his affairs and was away the last time Worf was on the Rotarran. It was a dreadful thing to have in common with someone, but at the same time it was oddly comforting.

"Nights are the worst. When all is quiet and there are no tasks to focus on the mind wanders," Worf replied.

"That is when blood wine comes in handy," Tavana said with a laugh, but then quietly asked, "It does get better though, does it not? Surely it did for you after the mission to the Monac Shipyards?" she asked, referring to the glorious send off to StoVoKor that Worf gave Jadzia, a mission she was a part of.

"I do not seek this out as often as I used to," Worf said, as he took another drink, "But there are times that I still do."

"I suppose that I was fortunate. Ortakin died in battle and I was there with him. I even got the honor of using his own batleth to run through the Cardassian that shot him. Then I used it to carve out his neck bones," Tavana reached into her pocket and pulled them out, "Ortakin used to collect the bones from every Cardassian he'd killed. He thought it made him look intimidating. The truth was, Ortakin was quiet and he kept to himself. He and I were opposites but we balanced each other out."

"As were Jadzia and I."

"It's funny how that happens, isn't it? And when they're gone it's like a piece of you went with them."

"We should not be doing this…" Worf said, staring into the bottom of his second empty cup.

"I bet you were planning to drink your pain away in peace, right?"

"I was," he admitted.

"If you're anything like me, it's going to take more than two before that will happen. Have another, and fill mine while you're up."

Worf obliged and as he handed her the filled cup he added, "Many would say that it is dishonorable to continue to mourn someone who has crossed the river of blood. That it can keep them from entering halls of the honored dead."

"Look, I did everything I was supposed to. I avenged his death. I held his lifeless body in my hands and howled until my throat was raw," Worf could hear anger rising in her voice, "So I don't want to hear about how I am dishonoring my husband's memory."

"I have done much worse than this," Worf admitted, "I still love Jadzia as much as I did the day we were married. Yet I have taken up with another woman," saying it aloud was like a weight lifting off his shoulders. The blood wine must really be working, "I want to love Ba'el. She is a great woman that deserves to be loved. But, I do not. I do not and it is not fair to her."

"What are you going to do?"

Worf truly had no idea. So he replied with the only thing he was certain of, "Keep drinking."

* * *

Since arriving on DS9 and moving in with Worf, Ba'el had purposely avoiding doing one thing. Sure, she'd been tempted several times but always talked herself out of it. She'd heard the human expression "ignorance is bliss" and was trying to live by it in respect to this. But now, with Worf away on the Rotarran right after his recent melt down over a picture, Ba'el knew she had to do it.

"Computer, display all biographical information for Lieutenant Commander Jadzia Dax."

" _Processing. Some information is classified and requires Federation security clearance and as a result will not display._ "

"Understood. Continue."

Ba'el's stomach was in knots while she waited for the information to load, "It's not like I'm actually meeting her," she admonished herself. The file loaded and Ba'el began reading.

The only picture of Jadzia that Ba'el had seen was the now infamous wedding image. On the screen, Jadzia was wearing her Starfleet uniform, a blue collared version unlike Worf's red. She had her hair pulled back and her arms clasped behind her back. Ba'el studied her for a moment. She really knew very little about this woman, and it didn't take her long to realize that she and Worf's wife had absolutely nothing in common.

Jadzia Dax was accomplished in pretty much anything Ba'el could think of. She was a brilliant scientist; there were more awards and distinctions here than Ba'el could count and in subjects that she could barely pronounce. She was trained in numerous forms of combat and martial arts. She was a level 5 (whatever that meant) pilot and battle command officer.

Ba'el kept scrolling through a long list of mission summaries, field commendations and service distinctions. Perhaps this was how all Starfleet personnel files read, but Ba'el couldn't help but picture this perfect woman who she would never be able to live up to.

Then she got to the personal section, which was noticeably brief. Jadzia was born on the planet Trill, had one sibling, and was married to Lt. Commander Worf in early 2374. They had no children. She died at the end of 2374, just 7 months after they were married. The Dax symbiont was then transferred to a new host, Ezri Dax, after Jadzia's death.

 _Wait, what_?

Ba'el read that last part three times Symbiont? Host? What did that mean? She clicked on the word symbiont and read the description out loud, "A symbiont is a sentient life form from the planet Trill. It exists in an organic relationship with its humanoid host, and upon the host's death is transferred to a new one. The average symbiont can live over 500 years."

She then moved onto host, "A Trill host is the humanoid component of the symbiotic relationship. The symbiont becomes an integral part of the host's existence, contributing thoughts, experiences, personality," she paused and tried to swallow the lump in her throat, "memories and emotions."

Ba'el was stunned. What did this mean? Suddenly, she felt naive and ignorant. How could she have missed this, how had she not made the connection between the two? She had no idea that Ezri, her only other friend in this whole place, was actually Worf's wife. Did he know? Why did neither of them ever say anything?

It didn't take long for her embarassment to turn to frustration. She needed answers, and there was only one person who could give them to her.

* * *

Ezri moved the plant in her office for the third time today. She had never been this indecisive before being joined. It was as if she had eight other people constantly giving her their opinion whenever she did something. She took a few steps back from where it say, tilted her head, frowned, and moved it back to where it had been in the first place.

Before she could pick it up to move it again, her door opened.

"Ba'el? This is a surprise!" Ezri said with a smile, "What can I do for you?"

"Are you busy right now? I'd like to speak with you."

Ezri could sense some trepidation in Ba'el's voice; something was wrong, "Please have a seat," Ezri motioned to a chair that she'd moved six times already. Ba'el sat, perched on the edge of the seat and she was wringing her hands nervously, "What's going on?"

"I grew up in a very sheltered environment. There is a lot that I don't know but I am learning more every day," she began hesitantly. After a deep breath for courage, she looked Ezri right in the eye, "I need you to explain to me how you're related to Jadzia Dax."

Ezri drew in a sharp breath. This was bound to happen, and Ezri knew the longer she kept it from her, the worse it would be when she did find out. Part of her had hoped that Worf would have told Ba'el, but she knew Worf well enough to know that wasn't going to happen.

Ezri spoke as calmly as she could, "I am a joined Trill, as was Jadzia. Dax is the name of the symbiont that we share. She was Dax's eighth host, and I am the ninth."

"What does this symbiont _do_?"

"It's complicated. The host and the symbiont have a combined intelligence. I have access to all its memories and experiences and it influences who I am. I have not had the Dax symbiont for very long, though, and I'm still learning how to integrate it into my personality."

"So you and Jadzia are not the same person then?"

"No, we are not."

"But you have all her memories?"

"Yes, I do."

Ba'el frowned, "What is a person if not a collection of their memories?"

Ezri laughed nervously, "I have been wrestling with that ever since I was joined."

She was quiet for a moment, "Does Worf know?"

"Oh, he knows."

"I feel like such a fool, Ba'el said as she shook her head, "How could I ever think Worf would want me when he had you right here?"

"Oh no, it's not like that at all. He and I are not involved," Ezri's voice trailed off, "Quite honestly, we don't even really speak to one another."

Ba'el could hear the change in Ezri's tone, "That bothers you, doesn't it? Not being involved with him?"

"I," Ezri paused, trying to find the right words. No one had ever really asked her these questions. She wanted to be honest but she didn't want to upset Ba'el more than she already was, "I wish we were friends. Jadzia and Worf were friends before they became romantically involved and I really miss that," Ezri had never admitted that to anyone, not even herself. But it was true.

"Why have you been helping me? Every since I got to the station you have given me advice on how to deal with him. Why?"

"Because I want him to be happy," Ezri answered without hesitation.

"He still loves her, you know."

Ezri lowered her eyes, "I figured as much."

"I read her personnel report today and it's easy to understand why. She was beautiful, brilliant and accomplished in every way. I don't see how I could ever live up to her. "

"Believe me, I know exactly how you feel. Jadzia casts a very big shadow," Ezri gave a small, ironic laugh, "She was glorious."

The two women sat quietly for a moment, processing the unique situation they'd found themselves in. Benjamin had been right, by choosing to stay on DS9, Ezri would have to watch Worf move on with his life. She hadn't prepared herself for what that would feel like.

Ezri broke the silence, "I need to apologize for keeping this from you. I just didn't know how to approach it. It's a very complex situation that I don't have completely figured out myself."

"It seems like living here near one another, yet not being together would be torture," Ba'el replied.

"It's sometimes hard to understand, but there is a difference between having memories of loving someone and being in love with them."

Ba'el thought about that for a moment, "That is quite honestly the first thing that's made sense to me in a long time."

* * *

Worf prided himself in being decisive. He drew upon the convictions and beliefs that both his life in Starfleet and his Klingon ideals taught him. It was rare that he couldn't find the direction he needed in either one of those.

But as he walked back to his quarters on Deep Space Nine at the conclusion of his mission on the Rotarran, he felt anxious and unsure. Ba'el would no doubt be waiting for him. They needed to address what happened before he left and how they would proceed. In a way, Worf felt responsible for her. He went to Carraya IV to rescue the Klingon survivors, but she stayed behind. Now she was here, wanting the life with him that he promised her all those years ago.

The door slid open and Worf's eyes were immediately drawn to the pack sitting on the floor next to the couch. It was Ba'el's satchel, the only possession she had with her when she came to find him on DS9. He looked around, but she was nowhere in sight.

"Ba'el?"

At the sound of his voice, she emerged from the bedroom, "Worf. I hoped you were coming home today."

He didn't respond.

"Come, sit with me please."

Ba'el sat on the couch, her belongings at her feet, and Worf sat next to her. She took his hand in hers and looked at it for a moment. Ba'el summoned all the courage she had and said, "It's time for me to go," in one quick breath.

"Go? You are leaving?"

"Worf, when you came to Carraya, I had never met anyone like you. You were this confident, strong, intriguing outsider who completely changed everything and taught us all things we never knew. Being around you was exciting and I fell in love with that. And then I spent six years building you up in my mind to almost mythic proportions.

"I suppose the reality of who I am has not met those expectations."

"It's not fair for me to expect you to live up to some fantasy that I created, especially when your life went down a different path."

"I am sorry. It has never been my intention to hurt you."

"You don't have apologize," she said with a smile, "And I know you probably would have let us go on instead of just admitting this isn't working so you wouldn't have to hurt my feelings."

Worf couldn't argue with that, "Where will you go?"

"Qo'noS."

"The Klingon Homeworld? Are you sure that is a good idea?"

She nodded, "Toq's family lives there, and I am going to stay with them for awhile. I need to take some time to figure out who I am and what I want in life," Ba'el reached up and touched his face, "And you need to more time to heal."

Worf nodded in agreement, he couldn't argue with that either.

"I wanted to make things right for you, I thought that that if I loved you enough you would be free from the pain of losing your wife. I'm sorry that I wasn't able to do that for you."

"Now it is you that has nothing to apologize for. Do not worry about me, I am dealing with that has happened in my own way. You deserve to put yourself first for a change."

She smiled.

Worf motioned to her pack on the floor, "When are you leaving?"

"I've booked passage on a transport vessel to Bajor, it leaves tonight. From there I will make my way to Qo'noS."

"No," Worf shook his head, "Please allow me to take you."

"I can't ask you to do that, Worf."

"You did not ask, I am insisting. A runabout can have us there in a fraction of the time."

Ba'el nodded, "Thank you. For everything."

* * *

Worf took Ba'el to the Klingon Homeworld and used the opportunity to conduct some business at the Federation consulate as well. He still had extreme reservations about her living on Qo'noS, but Toq's wife was warm and welcoming and Ba'el was excited, so he kept his fears to himself. When they parted company, they both promised to keep in touch and see each other whenever they could. Both knew that would probably never happen.

A few days later Worf returned to a home once again empty. He took off his baldric and draped it over the chair like always. Next, he headed to the bedroom and took out his wedding picture. Worf held the frame in his hands and started at it a long time. His fingers lightly touched the image and for a brief moment it was as if he could feel Jadzia's skin against his. The moment passed and carefully Worf placed the picture back on his bedside table.

~finis

March 16, 2016


End file.
